


Entropic

by misura



Category: Riddle-Master Trilogy - Patricia A. McKillip
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Roommates, Students
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 17:45:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17647052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Morgon and Rood tackle the case of the mysteriously missing Whites.





	Entropic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lleu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lleu/gifts).



Morgon had brought little with him from Hed: some clothes, some much-loved books, and, as he had quickly come to realize, a number of ideas, desires and assumptions, some of which had helped him and some of which had hindered him.

"We're going to be late," Rood said, fidgeting.

Rood, Morgon thought, had arrived likewise light-loaded, and yet here they stood, in the room that was theirs for the duration of their study, surrounded by chaos. Books, stacked in careful towers that ever looked in danger of toppling yet never did. Clothes (but not, alas, Morgon's Whites) strewn this way and that, in all sorts of colors, though the purple-and-blue of An was best represented.

Letters, discarded half-finished or redrafted; cups and plates and cutlery; a collection of empty bottles, which Rood had taken with him from either the Sea-Witch's Eye or perhaps the Heart's Hope, intending an experiment of the kind that had seemed interesting at the time of its conception, but which the morning after, neither of them had been capable of recollecting in exact detail.

"You should go," Morgon said, frowning in attempted recollection. "Little point in both of us being late."

Rood scoffed. "Abandon a friend in his hour of need? I'd challenge you to a riddle-game for that, if only we had the time. As things are, well, don't you have some spare ones?"

"You challenge me to riddle-games any time the mood strikes you," Morgon said, lifting what resembled a pot to hold a plant to find a handkerchief holding a small collection of sea-shells hidden underneath. "You challenged me to a riddle-game last night."

"I see no reason why I cannot study and enjoy myself at the same time. Besides, I didn't hear you complain at the time."

"Nor am I complaining now." Morgon spied a flash of white, but it turned out to only be a shirt.

"Good. You might wound my tender feelings. I am still waiting for an answer, incidentally."

Morgon shook his head. "I only bought two. It did not seem worthwhile, when after all I intend to achieve the Blue as quickly as possible."

"Why not display your true ambition as say you are shooting for the Black?" Rood said.

"Because I am human and, as such, even if I were to reach that goal more quickly than anyone before me, I still would be unable to justify not getting a third set of Whites. Besides, with the number of books I had read, it seemed possible, at least."

"Four things have come out of Hed," Rood said. "Beer, grain, a fine riddle and a young man with modest ambition. Would you like me to lend you some of mine? I would much prefer not to get frowned at again as if I had come crawling out from under a rock and might as well have elected to stay there."

"I have given up too much to this room already."

"Well," said Rood. "I suppose it might be due for a cleaning, but between studying and enjoying ourselves, who has the time? Recall Aruth of Aum: sooner or later, all lost things become found again."

"My preference would be for sooner," Morgon said.

"So would mine, but recall - which was it again, with the stricture about wishing for something being incapable of moving so much as a pebble? A bit weak, if you ask me," Rood went on, "seeing as how one would have to be feeble indeed to be unable to pick up a pebble and put it wherever one wanted to put it."

Morgon sighed. "Are you sure you have a spare set?"

"Three lost to the room - do not, I beg you, give me that look when you have only just pointed out what a voracious appetite it has yourself. Two with the washerwomen. One on my body, leaving one for my dearest friend, rival, roommate and bane of my night-rest."

"I didn't hear you complain at the time," Morgon said.

"Nor will you ever. I am thoroughly delighted to be kept from falling asleep by you, which should please you, as it means I will let you have my last remaining Whites without expecting anything in return." Rood opened up the large chest that held his clothes and what few possessions he valued most, then scowled.

Morgon groaned. "Rood. Must you give me hope when there is none?"

"Is that any way to talk to the man who has just found your robes?" Rood asked, adding, at Morgon's look of incomprehension, "Clearly, the ones I'm wearing are yours, whereas it is mine that are lost. As easy as that, the situation has simultaneously improved and worsened."

"I don't see the improvement," Morgon said.

Rood had already started stripping. "You don't? Perhaps you're not getting enough sleep."

"The Masters will be expecting us. In Whites."

"The Masters know quite well what hard-working, diligent students we are. Were we to take a day off to study by ourselves, most of them would be quite understanding, I'm sure. The moreso if we were to also do a bit of room-cleaning on the side. Who knows what treasure-troves we might discover at the bottom? Remember the package of six books my father sent me, and how we only managed to read two before the remaining four went missing?"

"I suppose it might be worthwhile to find those books again," Morgon acknowledged.

"Is that a whole-hearted agreement? If so, I suppose I ought to put some clothes on again right away, before you get distracted from what has become our noble purpose today."

"Books sent by Mathom himself." Morgon sighed. "Worth missing a few hours with the Masters for, indeed."

"Your dad sent us beer," Rood pointed out, not unkindly. "Given how many books there are in this place already, I have to say that I found that a much more useful gift. Less easy to lose as well. One can simply drink it in the company of a few good friends, and never worry about where it went again."

Morgon surveyed their room with a critical eye. "So where should we start?"


End file.
